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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136742">It's Not Safe Here For You After Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barbara69/pseuds/Barbara69'>Barbara69</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Witcher And His Bard [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier suffers for his Witcher, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:29:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barbara69/pseuds/Barbara69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While doing his job of fighting monsters, Geralt realises he might have made a mistake or two, resulting in severe injuries or, more likely, his death. Too bad there's no one around to help him, least of all Jaskier, to whom he has made it quite clear that he must stay behind when Geralt is doing his monster slaying business. Geralt would forever blame himself if Jaskier got hurt, or worse, during a monster hunt. </p>
<p>Blessedly, the bard has a reputation for exactly doing as he is told, right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Witcher And His Bard [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842652</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>152</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck!”</p>
<p>Geralt knew he had totally misjudged the whole situation in the second before the basilisk's claws hit his right shoulder with such force that he was hurled to the far end of the cave where he crashed against sharp rock, the impact almost knocking him unconscious. The pain from where the monster's claws had ripped open his armour, leather and the skin on his chest was so sharp he nearly yelped. He still held on to his silver sword, but the pain and venom numbed his arm and he couldn't get a firm grip on the hilt any more. </p>
<p>He realised he wouldn’t be able to get up in time to face the basilisk again. The creature soared into the air to descend on him, jaws wide open, deadly claws and talons aimed at Geralt's face and body.</p>
<p>He felt the monster's venom spreading in his veins, robbing him of his strength, making him dizzy and slow. He knew he would not survive this, but he wouldn't let the basilisk survive this either, he would at least take the beast down before he died. </p>
<p>Geralt let go of the sword and raised his hand to cast a burst of Igni at the monster, just as it came down on him. Despite what his witcher brothers in Kaer Morhen thought, the best and most effective way to fight a basilisk was with Igni, not with a sword.</p>
<p>He should have used it when he had still had enough strength to survive the encounter, but apparently his hubris had led him to miscalculate his odds against the basilisks. Or maybe he just didn't like to be weakened by using magic instead of physical strength even though obviously in the end it didn't make any difference...</p>
<p>The basilisk shrieked deafeningly when hit by the flames, crushing Geralt's left side a moment later, but the Igni had caused the claws and talons to clench up and spare the Witcher its deadly effect. But the monster's sharp beak ripped open skin on his cheek, spitting some acid onto it in the process.</p>
<p>Geralt grabbed his silver sword again. Mobilising all the strength that was left in him, he dealt the beast a deadly blow by piercing its brain with a well-aimed stab through the left eye, and shoved the body off of him. He could feel the life running out of the monster, sensed its heart stutter and stop with a last twitch of the body. Then finally the basilisk was dead.</p>
<p>Largely immobilised by the creature's venom, Geralt closed his eyes and tried to get his breath back. He had been caught off guard by the second, smaller basilisk suddenly turning up at the far end of the cave. He'd never before heard of basilisks sharing a den or hunting together, nor had he ever encountered it. Geralt guessed it might have been the bigger basilisk's offspring, for after he had fought both simultaneously and finally killed the smaller one, the remaining one had gone berserk, more than a hunting basilisk normally did.</p>
<p>The monster's talons and claws had left gaping wounds on Geralt's body which would turn out to be deadly if not treated soon and thoroughly, but that was not what worried him. Even though he had drunk a vial with an antidote before the fight, the wounds and the acid in the basilisk's spit had weakened him in addition to the venom, and if he didn’t quickly drink at least another one of his potions to mitigate the venom's effect it would be too late.</p>
<p>And there was the crux of the matter. For reasons he couldn't understand now, he had left his potions along with his other belongings with Roach. And Roach was waiting for him outside the cave, too far away from him. Even if he tried to crawl, he wouldn't be able to get to his horse in time.</p>
<p>
  <em>What a shit!</em>
</p>
<p>Geralt sighed. “Well, there are worse ways to go,” he muttered. “And I've always known it would end this way.” He thought of Roach and regretted having tied her to a tree. She would wait for him and only start trying to get free when all the grass in her vicinity had been eaten or when she got thirsty. He hoped she would find her way back into town so someone could relieve her of the saddle and bridle and take care of her. Maybe even the bard, if he had not already left after the witcher hadn't shown up.</p>
<p>The thought of Jaskier made Geralt smile, despite the pain. Somehow, the bard had managed to worm his way into the Witcher's heart and make himself at home there with all his constant chatter and blatant persistence and general likability, and Geralt almost regretted he would not be able to properly part ways with the troubadour. He was sure Jaskier would weave the Witcher's parting from this world into an epic song, once he learnt of his death. Too bad he couldn't deliver some details to make it more realistic, Geralt mused, thinking of how Jaskier would sing the praise of Geralt's heroic battle with two blood-curdling, man-eating, overall atrocious basilisks.</p>
<p>He let out a deep, rattling sigh and opened his eyes to look around the twilit cave, but his eyes were already failing and playing tricks on him. The cave's low ceiling suddenly stretched into a dark endlessness, and shadows of monsters Geralt knew weren't there scurried across the walls. His strength was dwindling fast and he felt himself hovering at the edge of unconsciousness. Grunting, he tried to push himself up but failed. Thin, spidery arms reached out for him from the shadows on the wall, and suddenly his hearing was filled with a low swoosh. His fingers and toes convulsed and he knew that soon other parts of his body would follow. He sighed and let himself get sucked into the burning void that would soon end his life.</p>
<p>“Geralt? Geralt! Hellooohh? Geralt, are you there? Why don't you answer me? I know you're here, I've seen Roach outside, and she doesn’t look happy. Geralt?”</p>
<p>Geralt's eyes shot open. He knew how fever dreams played with one’s mind, but the bard's voice sounded so damn real. Was this really just an illusion? He had made it clear quite early in their travel arrangement that the bard had no place in the Witcher's monster slaying business. If they travelled together, his place was at their camp or in a tavern, duly waiting for Geralt's return.</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” he croaked, not sure what he feared more: the bard really being here or his mind just playing tricks on him.</p>
<p>“Hello? Geralt? Where are you? Unless you're dead it's quite rude to not answer me and I know that you never end up being dead after fighting monsters. So. If you want me to go back to town just say it. Or grunt it. But I'll take Roach with me, there's no way I'll walk that distance back again in these shoes. Oh,” Jaskier gasped.</p>
<p>Geralt turned his head. Indeed, there he was. Jaskier, sans lute, but with a horrified expression on his face, stood before him.</p>
<p>“Are you hurt? You didn't come back and I thought it was a bit long and you might be in trouble and that I should maybe come looking for you since you said you'd be back no later than afternoon and I thought--”</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” Geralt panted, cutting off the bard's rambling. “Shut up. I need my saddle bags. There are potions. Now!”</p>
<p>Jaskier made a move to reply something, his mien changing from stunned to worried. Then he turned and dashed off without another word.</p>
<p>Geralt closed his eyes, uttering another rattling sigh. He would still have a go at the bard for ignoring his instructions to never follow him to any of his fights against monsters, but now he only felt relief and was glad Jaskier was so resistant to obedience and overall good judgement. Another point he should add to his list of good reasons to not like the bard so much. <em>Who says I like him?</em> a voice whispered in his head, and Geralt's mind was so muddled, he couldn't work out if it was him thinking or someone else planting another’s thoughts in his head. <em>Why was he thinking of the bard again at all?</em></p>
<p>“Found it,” Jaskier called from the cave's entrance, his voice and footfall echoing from the walls.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah, that's why...</em>
</p>
<p>“Is that a basilisk? I hope it's really dead, wouldn't like it to come to life again with you out of order at the moment. I've never seen one before,” Jaskier prattled while making his way to the Witcher.</p>
<p>Geralt tried to get rid of the mist clouding his mind and shook his head, which only nauseated him more and caused a pounding headache. </p>
<p>He groaned.</p>
<p>Jaskier dropped the saddle bags on the ground beside Geralt's head and started rummaging through it as soon as he had knelt down at the Witcher's side. “What do you need? There are so many vials there. Which one is it?”</p>
<p>Geralt heard the panic in the bard's voice. He knew it had to mean something, but he couldn't grasp what. “There's one with a golden liquid, it's one of the bigger vials,” he grunted. “And then there's a small, bulbous one with a black liquid, I shall need that, too. And look for a little tin with lilac grains. If I lose consciousness which should happen soon, ground and mix them with water or wine. Or I can just swallow them, if--” Geralt trailed off; he had lost his train of thought. Why was he giving instructions to the bard? A spike of pain in his belly brought him back to reality. <em>The venom!</em></p>
<p>“This one? Is it this one?” Jaskier asked, holding a small vial with golden-brown liquid in front of Geralt's eyes.</p>
<p>If Geralt wasn't mistaken, the bard’s hands were shaking, but it could just as easily be his body already spasming from the effects of the venom. He couldn't focus on the colour of its contents, a dark veil was clouding his eyes. “Is it golden?”</p>
<p>“I don't know! It looks golden to me and I can't find a bigger vial,” Jaskier replied, sounding harried, searching with his other hand for another, similar vial in the bags. “But I'm no expert!”</p>
<p>“Give it to me!”</p>
<p>Jaskier put the vial to the witcher’s lips and let its contents run into his mouth.</p>
<p>Geralt swallowed and coughed. “Now the other one,” he rasped. “And there should be a green one, put its content on the wounds.” He tried to focus on Jaskier, who had turned into a dark shadow, his head reaching up to the roof of the cave, his fingers long and greedy, stretching out to him. Geralt wasn't sure any more if he had just made it up that Jaskier had come to his aide, or if the bard was really there. It was probably just a figment of his imagination. Or maybe a wraith that haunted the area?</p>
<p>He couldn't feel his legs and arms any more and fire was painfully eating its way up his throat, burning him from the inside. His mind pulled and tugged and screamed to be set free. Geralt had forgotten where he was and why he was there and what he should even hold on to. He decided to give in to his spirit's yearning and leave his hurting body. Letting out a last breath, he let his mind sink back into the dark void.</p>
<p>“Geralt! Don't leave me here alone! Wake up!”</p>
<p>Rudely, Geralt was pulled out of merciful unconsciousness. He struggled to gather enough strength to focus his mind and open his eyes while he was shaken relentlessly.</p>
<p>“What?” he grunted, glowering at the bard through half-lidded eyes.</p>
<p>“I don't know what to do! You must stay awake and tell me what you need. The lilac grain you spoke of, I can't find it! And you're bleeding everywhere. We need to treat the wounds! They need stitching! We should take you back to town. Can't you get up?” Jaskier was speaking so fast, it was hard to understand single words in his panicked flow of speech.</p>
<p>Fighting against the pull of unconsciousness, Geralt grabbed Jaskier's arm with a last mobilisation of strength. He was probably hurting the bard because his fingers cramped and he couldn't control his muscles, but it would only underline what he had to say.</p>
<p>“Go! Take Roach and return to town. You can't help me any more, the venom has spread. Get to safety before it's too late. Soon...” He trailed off. He couldn't remember what he had meant to say. <em>Soon he would be dead?</em> His mind swirled and the darkness returned to pull him down.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*******</p>
</div><p>Jaskier stared at the Witcher. He would most definitely not panic now, even though he felt fear slowly crawling up his spine, spreading a coldness that settled in every bone. He panted for breath.

</p>
<p>“Calm down, Jaskier, he is not dead yet,” he muttered to himself, even though he had no idea if that was true. With shaking fingers, he reached for Geralt's hand that had left bruises on his arm from the force with which the Witcher had grabbed him. He wasn't even sure where exactly he could feel for a pulse but he was determined to find out.</p>
<p>His heart sank when he couldn't feel any pulse on the Witcher. He had tried and found his own heartbeat and could clearly make it out at his own neck and wrist. He detected nothing when he felt the same spots on the Witcher. Panic started to rise again. <em>This just couldn't be!</em></p>
<p>In a last effort, he lowered his head and put his ear on Geralt's chest, careful to not let his skin touch the bleeding wounds. He thought he heard a steady heartbeat, but it was probably only his own blood he heard pulsating in his ears. But he realised something else. The Witcher's chest was slowly but constantly rising and sinking with Jaskier's head pressed to the body. Someone who breathed must also have a heartbeat!</p>
<p>Sighing with relief, Jaskier rose and suddenly remembered what Geralt once had let slip while travelling. Witcher's heartbeats were much slower than a human's, which was probably the reason why he wasn't able to detect any pulse rate. He decided to feel reassured by this fact and ignore any lack of detectable pulse rate or overall vital signs.</p>
<p>It was almost dark now in the cave. What little light still managed to filter through the small opening was not enough to illuminate the basilisk's lair. Jaskier shivered. He had close to no knowledge of basilisks, and how could he be sure Geralt had been able to slay them all? The stench of the lair and the slain beasts was so heavy that Jaskier had problems suppressing the bile he felt constantly rising up this throat. He needed to get out of the cave where he could make a fire and look after Geralt and have a means of escape. And where Roach would be, the faithful soul.</p>
<p>Well, that was the plan, but Jaskier had no idea how to see it through. Geralt was all muscle and no fat and it wasn’t necessary to have to see him half-naked to know he easily weighed twice as much as Jaskier. He sighed. He would definitely not be able to throw the Witcher over his shoulder and swagger out of the cave!</p>
<p>“Damn it, Geralt!” Jaskier shouted. “Why are you doing this to me? Don't you dare die on me!” He suddenly remembered the lilac grain and green potions Geralt had mentioned and knew he needed to hurry. He hadn't been able to find them earlier and with the light almost gone, there was no way he would be able to find it now. He needed to get them out of the cave, start a fire and tend Geralt's wounds.</p>
<p>He eyed the entrance of the cave, judging the distance. His only chance would be to try to lift Geralt’s upper body and drag the unconscious Witcher along behind him. He just hoped it wouldn't cause more wounds and pain to the man than he already had.</p>
<p>Jaskier grabbed the crossed leather strips on Geralt's chest that strapped the big silver sword to the witcher’s back. Grunting, he pulled and lifted Geralt's upper body a couple of hand's breadths from the ground. It was just enough that his head would not drag along the floor, but even with all the will in the world, Jaskier wasn’t able to lift Geralt's body any higher. He went around Geralt again, pulling the upper body with him so that he was now able to walk backwards, dragging his friend’s body with him.</p>
<p>When Jaskier reached the entrance, he was bathed in sweat, his back was hurting like hell and Geralt had started groaning, probably from the hurt the dragging and pulling had caused him. Jaskier laid Geralt carefully down on the ground and stretched his back. Then he hurried back into the cave to pick up the saddlebags and bring them outside to where Roach was watching the drama unfold.</p>
<p>Outside, there was still enough light left to enable him to spread out the saddlebags' contents and look for the grain and other medicine or potions. He wondered if Roach would be able to help him. Maybe if he led her up to the entrance and heaved Geralt on her back, she could carry him to a clearing where they could set up camp.</p>
<p>“Bollocks!” Jaskier cried. “Stupid, stupid bard! How could I get him up on a horse when I'm not even able to lift him more than a couple of hand's breadth from the ground? It took what felt like an hour to drag him from the end of the cave to the entrance.” He turned to Roach. “He should have taught you to haul him to safety when he isn't able to do so on his own. I'm certainly the most inept person to be of any help in such a situation.“</p>
<p>Roach nickered, shaking her mane.</p>
<p>“Are you laughing at me or agreeing with me?”</p>
<p>Roach pawed the ground, bowing her heard a couple of times. Then she took as many steps towards the cave as the reins allowed her to.</p>
<p>Jaskier's gaze returned to the cave. “Shit!” He was standing here complaining to Roach while Geralt needed help. He hurried back and resumed his task from earlier, dragging the Witcher's heavy body outside.</p>
<p>Half an hour later he had managed to set up a make-shift camp far away from the entrance to the cave and, in his eyes, sufficiently shielded from possible dangers. He had started a fire, tied Roach to a spot where she could nibble on moss and fern, provisionally bandaged Geralt's wounds with one of the Witcher's spare shirts and spread the contents of his bags on the ground. Going through all the vials and tins and jars he wondered if he should ride back to town, look for a healer and bring him back here. He had virtually no idea how to treat a venomed and injured witcher. This certainly called for more knowledge than rubbing chamomile on Geralt's sore bottom!</p>
<p>“You are no help at all!” Jaskier lectured Roach, eyeing the content of two small tins. “How can Geralt expect me to know what he needs? For all his continual emphasis on the special relationship you two have, you're as useless as me at the moment.” Jaskier grabbed a vial, holding it up to the firelight so he could look at its contents. “Shit, look at this!” He turned to Roach. “This is golden, isn't it? This is the golden liquid Geralt had asked for, the one I gave him was much darker!” He felt panic rise. <em>Again.</em></p>
<p>“Should I give it to him or could it make things worse? And what about the one I gave him? Does he only carry strengthening potions and antidotes, or also poisonous ones? What if I only made things worse?” Jaskier looked to and fro between the vial in his hand and Roach, who was grazing unheedingly. “You're no help!” he repeated in frustration.</p>
<p>Turning to Geralt, he took a deep breath. “Okay. I can do this. He's a witcher, I'm sure he has survived worse, and I don't think any of his potions are meant to or able to kill <em>him</em>.”</p>
<p>Geralt moaned and started tossing about and Jaskier hastened to kneel beside him. “Here, drink!” he said, holding the vial to the Witcher's lips.</p>
<p>Geralt opened his eyes and stared at Jaskier, though his eyes were unfocused as if he was looking to something far behind the bard's head. He grabbed Jaskier's coat, pulling him down.</p>
<p>Jaskier yelped. “Geralt, please, you must drink this. I think I gave you the wrong potion, this looks much more like the golden liquid you mentioned. And it's a big vial as well.”</p>
<p>As quickly as Geralt had grabbed Jaskier, he released him, his head sinking back to the heap of moss Jaskier had piled up as a make-shift pillow. A moan escaped the Witcher's lips and Jaskier took the opportunity to pour the potion down Geralt's throat. Then he returned to the things he had spread on the ground and stared at the two tiny tins he had found. Both of them contained grain, and both of it looked lilac. Did Geralt have two identical portions of the same herbs or were they different? One was a lighter shade of lilac and the grain was a bit smaller, but how should he know which one was correct? Cursing under his breath, he opened Geralt's waterskin and poured some of it into a bowl he had found along the Witcher's belongings. After a moment of contemplation, he chose the darker grain which had a more pleasant smell and he dropped half of the tin's content into the bowl. For want of mortar and pestle Geralt would have to swallow the grains unground, but Jaskier couldn't care less at the moment.</p>
<p>He returned to Geralt, lifting his head with his left hand. The Witcher's skin was covered in sweat and Jaskier could feel heat radiating from him. Geralt had developed a high fever within less than half an hour. </p>
<p>“That's not good, not good at all,” Jaskier muttered, trying to instil the water and herbs into Geralt. Luckily, even unconscious, Geralt swallowed most of the bowl's content without choking on it or spilling too much.</p>
<p>Jaskier put the bowl down and laid his hand on his friend's brow. It was burning hot. He considered how much effort it would cost him to strip Geralt of his armour-like leather garb without hurting him. <em>Or me,</em> he thought, not sure if he would stand a chance if Geralt started struggling against it. </p>
<p>He sighed. It couldn't be helped, he needed to get him out of his clothing, at least the heavy outerwear.</p>
<p>While he peeled off layer after layer of Geralt's clothing, Jaskier once again pondered if he should take Roach, ride back to town and return with help. Again, he dismissed the idea. He didn't want to leave Geralt alone here, unprotected and probably dying, and there was no certainty that he would find a healer or someone else who was willing to help him save a witcher. Even though the alderman had been willing to pay a witcher for killing the nearby monster menace, he had made it quite clear what he thought of witchers, mutants and mages in general. They had not been welcome in town, and Jaskier doubted anyone there would even so much as lift a finger to help him or Geralt.</p>
<p>“Come now, don't be so unmanageable, I'm only trying to help here,” Jaskier cursed, trying to unbutton Geralt's shirt. The Witcher had struggled and groaned while Jaskier had stripped him of his leather straps and belt, vambraces, gloves, pauldrons and jacket, and he was now bathed in sweat as much as the Witcher was. “I know you're hurting and I can think of a thousand things more pleasant than this but I have really absolutely no idea how to treat you or help you. But I think it's definitely best if-- Argh!!”</p>
<p>Geralt had grabbed Jaskier forcefully, halting the bards fumbling and was staring at him with wide, feverish eyes. “What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Um, I, erm,” Jaskier stuttered, trying to wriggle out of Geralt's painful clutch. “I'm just trying to help. You're hurt and you have developed a high fever and maybe you can give me instructions which of your potions might help? I've no idea if the things I instilled into you are helping or not. And do you have a salve I can put on the wounds? They already look inflamed at the edges and that green water or oil or whatever it was didn't really help.”</p>
<p>“I know you,” Geralt rasped, cutting off the bard. “I know your face.”</p>
<p>“Of course, I'm Jaskier. I'm your friend! I came to look after you when you failed to show up. I started to worry, you know, and – Ouch! Stop it!”</p>
<p>Geralt had intensified his grasp on Jaskier. “I don't trust you! What have you given me?”</p>
<p>Jaskier tried to get away from the Witcher's painful grip. “Nothing! I mean, I gave you the vial with the golden potion you asked for. And a black potion. And then I found another golden one, and gave that to you as well. And, and,” Jaskier stuttered, starting to wonder if it was such a good idea to reveal to Geralt that he might have given him the wrong potions and herbs, not the ones he had asked for, and that he might quite unintentionally have poisoned him further.</p>
<p>“My bag!” Geralt grunted, finally letting go of Jaskier. “Give it to me!”</p>
<p>Jaskier jumped up like a spiral spring, taking a couple of steps away from the Witcher. “I've emptied your bags to look for things I can use. It's all spread over there. Tell me what you need.”</p>
<p>Geralt glowered at Jaskier, then his gaze moved from Jaskier to something behind the bard, and the Witcher's eyes widened. “Why are you here?” he rasped.</p>
<p>Jaskier turned to see what Geralt was looking at. <em>Was he speaking to Roach?</em> But his horse was on the other side. “Erm, well, Roach waited for you outside the cave.” He turned back to Geralt, cautiously taking a step towards the Witcher. “You don't look good, Geralt. You have a high fever and I'm worried you'll be unconscious or delirious soon. Please tell me what I should do! What potions or herbs do you need? And I'll have to re-bandage the wounds, they’re already starting to look infected.”</p>
<p>Geralt's gaze returned to the bard. Confused, he stared at Jaskier, then a flash of recognition flitted over his face. “Jaskier,” he panted. “It's not safe here for you after dark. Why didn't you stay back in town?”</p>
<p>Jaskier took another step closer to Geralt. “Because you didn't come back. You need help,” he said urgently, trying to cut through the fever-induced haze that apparently clouded the Witcher's mind. “Tell me which of your potions you need or what I should do. Maybe you can get up on Roach and we can ride back to town and....” Jaskier trailed off.</p>
<p>Geralt's head had sunken back to the ground, his eyes rolled back in their sockets and his whole body was seized with cramp. He groaned pitifully.</p>
<p>“Geralt!” Jaskier crouched down beside the Witcher. “What should I do? Please, don't leave me hanging like this!"</p>
<p>Suddenly, Roach neighed and started prancing around, tugging at her reins. Behind her, in the dark forest, branches snapped and there was rustling in the underbrush.</p>
<p>Staring into the dark forest with wide eyes, horrified by whatever it was that was coming their way, Jaskier felt his heartbeat quicken. The noise made by the unknown foe increased, and an abominable grunting filled the air.</p>
<p>“Shit!”</p>
<p>He looked down at Geralt who was still struggling with cramps. This time, there would be no help coming from the Witcher, he was all on his own. Jaskier grabbed the big silver sword but dropped it immediately. He could hardly lift it with both hands, there was no way he would be able to wield it against someone or something. Instead, he grabbed the dagger Geralt usually carried in his boot and ran over to Roach. He untied her so she could follow her instinct and flee if the situation went south.  </p>
<p>“Easy, Roach, sshhh. If at all possible, please don't leave me, but if you can't, flee. Return to town and bring some help, will you do this for your Witcher and me?”</p>
<p>Roach blew hard through her nostrils, broke free from Jaskier and reared. Then she turned and fled.</p>
<p>“Great,” Jaskier huffed. “So much for that.”</p>
<p>He returned to Geralt, planting himself in front of the delirious Witcher, the dagger raised in front of him. He was scared stiff but was determined to defend his unconscious friend to the death and not back down from the creatures that were coming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt gasped, opening his eyes so wide that he was immediately blinded by the light. Just a moment ago everything had been quiet and peaceful and Vesemir had been there, soothing his pain and murmuring comforting words. Now his body was racked with pain and fever and he couldn't see clearly.</p>
<p>“Vesemir! Don't go!” he croaked, but his mentor's face faded and was replaced by another's face.</p>
<p>“Geralt?”</p>
<p>Geralt searched his mind for a name. He realised that the brightness from before had dimmed, it was almost dark around him, the air only illuminated by the flickering light of a nearby fire.</p>
<p>“Jaskier?” he asked, grabbing for the man's shoulder. The bard. The bard had come to his aid after he had slain the basilisks. Or hadn't he? Had he only imagined it? Where was Roach? How much time had gone by?</p>
<p>Jaskier's face faded, just like Vesemir's had, changing to something else. Someone else’s face he knew, but couldn't remember whom it belonged to. An evil grin and malicious eyes stared at him close up.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” He could feel the malevolence radiating from the man like a foul smell.</p>
<p>The man opened his mouth for a reply, but instead of words tiny black scorpions poured out of it. His spiteful laughter filled Geralt's ears.</p>
<p>Geralt shot up, despite the pain from the movement that ripped through him like a bolt of lighting. Grabbing the man's throat, he put all his strength into his hands, choking the other as hard as he could.</p>
<p>The man's face blurred, changed again, but Geralt held on tight. Whoever it was, he was sure the man was here to kill him, taking advantage of the Wichter's deteriorating health.</p>
<p>His counterpart fought back and a kick against his chest finally prompted him to let go of the other's throat. The pain the blow to his injured chest had caused was unbearable and Geralt nearly blacked out. Panting for breath, he lay on his back, momentarily immobilised. He knew if he didn't get up immediately, the other man would kill him. <em>Man or monster</em>, Geralt thought, because he wasn't sure any more if the face had looked human at all. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow fall over him, and without hesitation he bent his knees and kicked out, bringing it down with a yelp.</p>
<p>Quickly, he scanned the area around him. To his right was a fire, illuminating the dark forest that encircled them. Things he couldn't remember having seen before were scattered on the forest floor, and neither Roach nor the bard were there. His silver sword lay within his reach, and he grabbed it. With difficulty, he sat up. Movement to his left made him turn his upper body, bringing the sword in front of him.</p>
<p>“No, stop it, it's me!” the bard cried, staring at Geralt. “Drop the sword and for Melitele's sake lay down, you're bleeding like a butchered boar!”</p>
<p>Geralt scrutinized Jaskier. He looked like the bard and spoke like the bard, but Geralt knew that dopplers were not the only shapeshifters who could deceive with their appearance. There were others like aguaras, and he had even seen mages casting spells to make themselves look different. He looked around, still firmly grasping his sword. There was no one else here besides them, but he could see yellow eyes blinking in the dark forest. Other monsters were waiting for him in the dark, waiting to attack him as soon as his attention weakened.</p>
<p>“Where's the sorcerer?” he asked, turning his gaze to Jaskier. Or whoever it was that looked like the bard.</p>
<p>“There's no one here, just you and me,” the bard replied.</p>
<p>A horse whickered, and Geralt bobbed his head. Roach was nowhere in sight. “Where is Roach?”</p>
<p>“What?” Jaskier said.</p>
<p>Geralt stared at the bard. He saw flickers of fear and unease flash in the dark eyes, and he could smell fear and blood and something else. Something, that was definitely not how Jaskier smelled. His gaze dropped and only now did he see the weapon in the other's hand. He had no idea how he could have failed to notice this but attributed his lack of attention to his weakened health condition. With a roar, he launched himself on the other.</p>
<p>The being who had impersonated Jaskier shrieked and fought back violently, but even in his weakened state of health the other was no real match for Geralt. With a twist of his arm he had disarmed the imposter and held him pinned to the ground with his knees. He raised his sword to pierce the shapeshifter's heart but froze when he heard Roach whicker again. Again, he searched the periphery of the small clearing, but he only saw dark shadows crawling out of the forest towards him. The sorcerer or shapeshifter or whatever it was he held pinned underneath him must have called his underlings.</p>
<p>“Geralt!” the bard cried. “Geralt!”</p>
<p>Geralt whipped round his head, searching for the caller. <em>Where are you?</em></p>
<p>Roach whickered again.</p>
<p>He reached for his amulet and wondered why it had been quiet all the time while he was surrounded by monsters and magic. His hand closed around … nothing. Geralt patted down his chest, but his amulet was gone. Stolen by whoever had come to kill him. His gaze returned to the man beneath him.</p>
<p>The monster now reared its ugly face, baring its teeth and showing its fangs, the face twisted into a devilishly grimace. With a forceful blow to its head, Geralt knocked it unconscious. Then he rose to face the shadows closing in on him from all sides.</p>
<p>He slashed and hacked but it seemed the more he exerted himself, the more monsters showed up. One of them suddenly attacked him from behind, jumping on his back and clinging to his arms so he couldn't move them any more. He dropped his sword and tried to get rid of the monster and finally succeeded when he got hold of its head and tossed it away from him.</p>
<p>Even though the impact must have been hard, the thing immediately sprang to its feet again and ran away. Geralt turned around, looking for more attackers. They were all gone. He was alone. His knees buckled and his head started spinning and agonising pain hit him like a bludgeon strike. The last thing he saw before darkness enveloped him was the forest floor approaching him fast.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*******</p>
</div><p>Geralt woke. He felt like he was crawling up from a deep, dark abyss and the process of waking was long and strenuous, but once his mind was clear enough that he knew he was awake, he remembered. He registered a dull throb of pain in his chest and a tiredness in his bones, but otherwise he felt not too bad.

</p><p>Geralt opened his eyes and looked around. It was bright and he could see the sun twinkling through the treetops at the edge of the small clearing. He sat up, hissing when the movement caused a stab of pain. Propping himself up against the wall of rock in his back, he let his gaze wander. Roach stood to his left, nibbling on some brush. She had been relieved of the saddle and bridle and was tied with a rope around her neck to a nearby tree. She looked up and snorted at him by way of greeting, before resuming with her grazing.</p>
<p>In front of his feet was a campfire that had gone out, although small wisps of smoke still rose from the embers. Beside the fireplace lay his saddlebags and a heap of things. Vials, clothes, tins, a bowl. He immediately recognised them as his belongings, thrown together carelessly. Finally, to his right, away from the fire at the edge of the woods, he spotted Jaskier, curled up and sleeping in the grass.</p>
<p>Geralt let out a sigh of relief. So he had not imagined that the bard had come to his aid, and neither Roach nor Jaskier had been harmed or killed when the monsters had attacked in the night. Thinking of how he had fended off the sorcerer or doppler or whatever it had been, and his companions, Geralt frowned. His hand came up to reach for his amulet and he was surprised to find it there. He looked down to take a closer look, only to realise it was indeed his amulet, not a counterfeit. His gaze returned to Jaskier and he took a moment to pick up on the bard's heartbeat, smell and even breathing.</p>
<p>The heartbeat was a bit uneven, the breathing was a tad too laboured, the smell was a mite different than usual, but none of it was worrisome yet and so Geralt turned his attention to his own body.</p>
<p>He palpated his chest, shoulder and neck where the basilisk's claws had ripped open his skin. It hurt, but it didn't feel inflamed or festering. He felt the scratch on his cheek from the basilisk's venomous beak and a bump on the back of his head, and a few bruises and scratches he couldn't remember getting. Probably from his fight in the night against the horde of dark creatures. His mind was still dazed from the aftereffects of the venom that had poisoned his veins, but the venom itself had been removed from his circulation. Whatever the bard had done or given to him, it had been the right thing.</p>
<p>“Geralt! You're awake! Seeing you sitting upright is definitely a sight for sore eyes, I had already started to worry you would never wake up!”</p>
<p>Apparently, the bard had been roused from his slumber while Geralt had taken stock of himself and was making his way over to where the Witcher sat. Geralt turned his head to the approaching man and froze.</p>
<p>“How do you feel? Has the venom worn off? Are you still feverish? I wasn't sure...” Jaskier, now standing in front of Geralt, trailed off. “What? What is it? Geralt? Why are you looking at me so strangely?” He dropped down on his knees, grabbing for Geralt's shoulder. “Are you having a hallucination?”</p>
<p>“What happened to you?” Geralt rasped, still staring at Jaskier.</p>
<p>“Uh? What-- What do you... Oh! You mean, err...” Jaskier made a vague gesture towards his face. “That's nothing, really, that's-- it's...” Again, he trailed off.</p>
<p>“Is this from the raid in the night? The fight against the monsters?”</p>
<p>“The monsters? Yes! Yes, right, the monsters. When you fought the monsters, that's where this.. thing... happened,” Jaskier replied, a bit too eager, his voice a tad too high-pitched even for a bard.</p>
<p>Geralt frowned. Why had he spoken of monsters when he had asked Jaskier about the attack and his fight against them? As a witcher, he could name every monster, mutant, magical being and mystical entity that inhabited the continent, and some more who no longer walked this earth. And yet he could only think of the shadows he had fought as monsters? There was something mismatched in his train of thought, but Geralt couldn't grasp where the error was in his logic.</p>
<p>“What kind of monsters were they? And where were you and Roach when they attacked? I didn't see either of you, though I think I heard you call.”</p>
<p>“Err, well, we, that is I, I was--. Well, I untied Roach and she fled, I was afraid she would be harmed by them if I kept her tied up.”</p>
<p>Geralt quickly scanned the small clearing before his eyes returned to Jaskier. The bard tried very hard to shy away from the Witcher's look but wasn't doing a good job of it. Studying the cuts and bruises on Jaskier's face and neck, and the trails of dried blood on his shirt, Geralt quickly started connecting the dots.</p>
<p>He knew he had woken up sometime in the night and had fought hard against an unknown foe, and yet there were no hints of extensive fighting at the camp. He remembered he had seen Triss appear at the forest’s edge to give him a warning, and Jaskier had panicked about the potions and herbs and whatnot, and then Vesemir had come to him. Vesemir had healed him, eased his pain, had kept him from the jaws of death when all Geralt had wanted to do was give in and follow the call. And then another foe from another time had shown up with his underlings, but all Geralt had seen was faceless shadows. He couldn't even visualise the face of what he had thought to be a sorcerer. The only face he could see clearly before his mind's eyes if he recalled the night's events, was the bard's.</p>
<p>It dawned on him that neither Triss nor Vesemir could have been real, nor were all the other creatures he had seen at night. He had been delirious and had hallucinated. The only one who had been there with him in the forest, who had eased his pain and had relentlessly uttered soothing words so he would not lose his touch with this world, was Jaskier.</p>
<p>“There were never any monsters, right?” he asked quietly.</p>
<p>Jaskier fidgeted under the Witcher's stare but didn't answer.</p>
<p>“I am the monster. I inflicted all this onto you. You tried to help and keep me alive and in my delirious mind I thought you were an enemy I needed to kill. I hurt you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, right. And thank the gods you were weakened, injured, feverish and delirious, otherwise I guess I wouldn't have lasted even a minute. I mean look at you! Even half dead you've more strength in these admittedly very sexy muscular arms than I would ever be able to attain in my life! But, in your defence, you were delirious and not quite right in your head and you didn't know what you were doing. So, I'm not angry with you. Maybe a little, but, erm--.”</p>
<p>“I told you to never follow me when I'm doing my work! It's too dangerous for you in more ways than one as I’ve told you time and time again! And yet, here you are,” Geralt growled, glowering at Jaskier. “Damn it, Jaskier, why can you never do as you're told?”</p>
<p>“I, err, what?” Jaskier stuttered. “Are you seriously lecturing me now for saving your life? You would have died back in that cave if I hadn't come to drag you out and pour all these witchery potions into you!” Jaskier shouted back. “And bandaged your wounds and held your hand while you tossed and turned and muttered nonsense! Can you not, just once, say thank you, well done bard, you saved my life and I'm very grateful for it!”</p>
<p>Geralt pushed himself up, swaying a little because the movement made him dizzy. “No!” he barked at the bard. “It could have cost you your life! There's a reason I laid down rules if this arrangement is supposed to work between you and me.”</p>
<p>Jaskier rose. “Oh, fine, great! Have a go at the bard because he saved your life. Obviously that's all the great Geralt of Rivia can do, shout at people and dismiss them whenever it pleases him. You're such a narcissistic, unrefined, ignorant....” Jaskier's mouth moved, but he seemingly couldn't come up with more appropriate words. “Butcher!” he finally shouted.</p>
<p>Scowling at Jaskier, Geralt pushed past him to where his belongings lay. He knew lashing out at the bard was inexcusable and unjust, but he needed to vent the anger he felt at himself. He could just as easily have killed the bard in his delirium without knowing it, and he knew he would never have been able to live with that fact. Unmerited fortune had smiled on him in a way that had allowed Jaskier to be able to defend himself so far that he was only harmed and injured, and not lying dead on the ground with a slit throat or split head.</p>
<p>Growling like an angry wolf he searched his things until he had found what he had been looking for.</p>
<p>He turned, only to find the bard standing directly behind him, hands on his hip and seemingly on the brink of tapping his foot like an angry child. “I'm so done with you and your sour expression and your--”</p>
<p>Geralt reached for Jaskier's throat, carefully pushing the shirt collar to the side, his gesture silencing the bard. “May I?”</p>
<p>“Erghmphf,” Jaskier stuttered. “What--?”</p>
<p>Geralt could feel how the bard stiffened under his touch, clearly uncertain about what the Witcher would do. “This salve will help heal the bruises and sooth the pain in your throat,” he said, holding up a small jar, all the while studying the violet strangulation marks on Jaskier's neck. “I'm sorry,” he said and started to put salve on the skin, noticing how the bard flinched ever so slightly with every touch.</p>
<p>“I was created for a single purpose. To fight and to kill. If there had ever been another purpose in my life when I was a young child, it was swept away by my destiny to become a witcher. Fighting and killing has become so ingrained, it's basically reflexive and hard to suppress.” He closed the jar and took a step back. “It's all I can do and what I am. But I never intended to hurt you.”</p>
<p>“Right. Well. Yeah, I guess I should have known. There's a reason it's so easy for me to convince townsfolk up and down the country that you'll <em>always</em> come back to claim your money. I've composed enough pieces of music about your epic battles against all evil that I should know how dangerous and deadly you are. Even if you're half dead. Especially if you're half dead and delirious and without a clear picture of who's friend or foe. And yet, here we are. Lesson learned though, I'd say.” Jaskier looked Geralt up and down assessingly.</p>
<p>“I can stitch this up,” Geralt said, pointing to Jaskier's temple where a gash ruined the bard's smooth face. Vaguely he recalled having hit what he thought was a doppler with the pommel of his sword. In hindsight, he really appreciated his decision to knock the foe unconscious instead of instantly killing him. “It will heal poorly and leave a nasty scar if you leave it untreated. The courtly invitations will recede significantly, as will the court ladies' invitations to their beds. A scar would be a real shame, what with your handsome face and all. Just saying.”</p>
<p>Geralt crouched down to rummage through his belongings again.</p>
<p>Jaskier was speechless for a moment. “Are you making fun of me or was this an attempt at being funny? I'm just asking, because with your sour expression and bone-dry nature it's hard to tell.”</p>
<p>Geralt grunted.</p>
<p>“Ah, yes, fine. We're back to grunting, that's kind of comforting, because it's so much more your usual self. In the light of this I guess it's safe to assume that the venom has worn off and you are more or less your usual grumpy self? So, can we then go back to town? Because there <em>are</em> some dangers out there in the forest I don't want to encounter again. There was a wild boar that scared the shit out of me and Roach, sounding like a pack of ghouls when it broke through the underbrush, causing Roach to rear and flee. It took me a while to calm her and lead her back after I scared the boar off. And I'm starting to get really hungry and you've nothing edible in your saddlebags. I looked. Repeatedly.”</p>
<p>Geralt smiled to himself, his back towards Jaskier. Somehow, the bard's chatter had a soothing effect on him even though he would never admit it, least of all to the bard. <em>And</em> he would need to have a serious talk with Jaskier once they were back. There <em>was</em> a reason why he had laid down rules and told Jaskier to never follow him to a fight, and a wild boar hadn't even been on his list of all the things that could happen to the bard. Especially if he was out cold and unable to protect him.</p>
<p>“I'll saddle Roach,” he grunted, grabbing the vial he was looking for and downing its content in one gulp. He needed to stock up his potions, and he would have to look for ingredients as soon as they were back in town. The alderman owed him money for slaying the basilisks, and it would be enough to buy what he needed to make new potions and mixtures. And he would send and pay for a healer, it was the least he could do for the bard after nearly killing him for his efforts. Even if Jaskier had just sustained cuts and bruises, there might be hidden injuries even the bard had not yet registered. He would not risk causing more harm to him than he already had.</p>
<p>He started gathering up his things to stow them away when the bard spoke again.</p>
<p>“Two things, Geralt. Eh!” Jaskier interrupted himself. “Three, actually. The basilisks. Why were there two, didn't you always say they hunt alone? And how exactly did you manage to kill them both and how does their venom work? I mean, apart from what I've seen, but how did you experience it, the pain, the delusions?”</p>
<p>Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, not quite believing his eyes.</p>
<p>The bard looked at him expectantly. He had his notepad supported on his left forearm and the small inkpot between his fingers. His right hand held the quill, ready to write down whatever the Witcher had to say or was willing to share.</p>
<p>
  <em>Where in the world had Jaskier conjured up his writing tools?</em>
</p>
<p>“Secondly, what exactly did you mean when you said there might have been another purpose in your life when you were younger, before you became a witcher. What's the story behind this? Boy, human, witcher, you know what I mean. What did you really want to become when you were a child and how do witchers come into existence at all?”</p>
<p>Geralt rose. And glowered. And started to have second thoughts about his pangs of conscience for having fought and hurt Jaskier. He could even feel a headache starting to build at the back of his head. “You should be happy you made it out alive. Sing about that,” he grunted.</p>
<p>“Vesemir,” Jaskier replied, pointing at Geralt with the tip of his quill. “You talked a lot about him in your febrile delirium. And you had a great conversation with him. Who exactly is he and what's your relation to him? Is he some Grand Master of the Witchers? You never mentioned him before but it sounded--”</p>
<p>“Stop it!” Geralt interrupted Jaskier's stream of words, pinching his nose. “Otherwise I might start to regret that...” He trailed off, darting a meaningful look at Jaskier.</p>
<p>“Oh no. You're not getting away that easily,” Jaskier replied. “You <em>owe me!”</em></p>
<p>Geralt heaved a sigh. This was going to be a long ride back to town, and probably an even longer evening and night, once they were back. Or, knowing the bard, a week.</p>
<p>But Jaskier was right. Geralt owed him. Telling him a little bit of his past and his relationship with Vesemir was a cheap price he was willing to pay, considering that he had very nearly killed his friend.</p>
<p>And he owed him for the fact that Jaskier had come to look for him in the first place and therefore risked his life. He would be dead now if the bard had not found him and given him the antidote and patched him up. Geralt could not remember anyone ever doing this for him before. Bothered about his non-appearance and caring enough for the Witcher to put Geralt's life over his own.</p>
<p>“All right,” Geralt grumbled. “You can ask me on our way back to town and I'll even let you ride on Roach with me. That should pay off any debts I have and be redemption enough for what I did to you. We will be square then.”</p>
<p>Jaskier's face lit up, a big grin lifting the corners of his mouth and his eyes sparkled with mirth.</p>
<p>And this, Geralt realised, this sight was worth any penance he might have to do.</p>
<p>He almost couldn't remember how his life had been before the bard had forced his way into it. And for the first time in his long life he thought that the Witcher life that had been forced on him might not only be all bad, but might also hold something good for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Witcher/Wiedźmin is property of Andrzej Sapkowski (books) and Netflix (show). I only borrowed the characters of the show for this work of fan fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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